


Long Distance

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1982841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Artie and Sam separate as they head off to their post high school lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance

“I don’t know if we can make this work,” Artie said, looking mournfully at his boyfriend.            Artie was leaving for New York film school next week.  Sam had been offered a job back in Nashville working for family.

            “What do you mean?” Sam asked, confused.  “We’ve talked about it.  We’re doing long distance.  Skype dates, weekends together…  The last year has been too good to throw away.”

            It wasn’t that Artie wanted to break up with Sam.  He just thought it was the best choice.  They were both going to start new lives… how could they possibly hold onto something from their pasts?

            “I’m sorry, Sam…  I think we should break up,” Artie wasn’t the kind of person who cried easily, but he knew that as soon as he got outside he’d be bawling.  Actually, Artie realized as he saw Sam start to well up, he might not last that long.  God, he loved Sam so much. “It’ll be better for the both of us.”

            “You can’t say this’ll be better for us both, Artie,” Sam said with a flash of anger as he wiped his eyes.  “Maybe for you, I don’t know, but not for me.  I want to fight for us.”

            Artie couldn’t stay in the room any longer.  “I-I’m sorry, Sam,” he pushed himself away from Sam, until he felt alone enough to cry properly.

* * *

 

            A couple months later, Artie was confused.  He loved New York.  It was the greatest.  The lights, the glamour, his classes.  He was learning so much and his teachers all agreed he was a natural at directing. 

            Artie Abrams was going places… but why did he feel like something was missing?  In true dramatic fashion, he constructed a montage.  Not an actual one, of course, he didn’t have the resources for that, but he made do.  Saturdays weren’t too busy, so he made his way all the way down to Central Park (which was quite a journey), and found a nice place in the grass to lay down.  Generally he was loathe to leave his chair in public, but he was desperate for answers.

            Staring at the cloudy sky, Artie montaged.  He imagined where he wanted to be as the years went on.  All he saw was the stage.  He directed plays, musicals, weird offbeat things that he couldn’t properly describe.  Directing first in little theaters and working his way up to grand Broadway stages.  He was sitting at the Tony Awards… They called his name out for best director… And before he went to accept his award, he turned to kiss… Sam!

            He sat up straight and sighed.  Part of him knew it all along.  Yes, he had everything he wanted in the palm of his hand, but he wanted to share it with someone.  No, not someone.  Sam.  And he had messed that all up.

            But Artie knew fiction.  While the stage might be his true love, he also paid attention to movies.  And in movies, the idiot party (Artie) always made a big romantic gesture to apologize to their beloved (Sam) and they rode off into the sunset together.  It would be something to tell their grandkids about when they were old.  Artie smiled as a plan started to form.  Perfect. 

* * *

 

Artie had his big, romantic scheme all laid out.  He just had to find the perfect time to execute it.  In a couple weeks he had a four day weekend, and he decided that he had to act.  It took most of his savings to get to Nashville and get a hotel for the night, and he skipped studying for a pretty big test carefully putting together a DVD full of special things for Sam.  It included pictures of them together and video he had shot.  More than once Artie had wrangled Sam into doing impressions for him on camera.  The most difficult thing about taping Sam was that Artie couldn’t restrain his laughter (which just urged Sam on) and how sometimes when Sam was impersonating some romantic lead, Artie’d get a little too excited and dropped the camera because he wanted to kiss (and do more to) Sam.  They had inadvertently made more than one sex tape that way; Artie didn’t include any of that footage in his DVD.

            Artie had found out where Sam was living through Facebook, of course, and he felt like he was in a bad rom com as he rolled up to the house the next evening. If all went according to plan, he and Sam would be back to normal soon enough.  It was all his fault that things were messed up, but now he was ready to make it right.

            Taking a deep breath, he rolled up to Sam’s door and knocked.  When Sam opened the door, he looked shocked. 

            “Hi, Sam,” Artie felt breathless.  This was it.  This was his moment.  “What I did, what I said, was some of the stupidest stuff ever.  And I am so sorry and I hope you can forgive me because as much as I love New York City, it feels empty without you.  I love you, Sam, and I want-“

            Artie never got to voice what he wanted, however, as he quieted immediately when he heard another male voice from the inside of the house.  “Who is it, babe?”  The owner of the voice came into view:  he was a chiseled, shirtless guy who looked like he has just gotten out of the shower.  He slid in next to Sam easily and wrapped an arm casually around him, fiddling with the elastic of Sam’s sweatpants a little.  It was clear what Artie had interrupted.

            Both Sam and Artie were shaken and shocked, so Artie numbly handed the DVD he had made to Sam and backed down the sidewalk.  Sam didn’t stop watching him until the man started kissing his neck insistently and he closed the door.


End file.
